LA Noire: The Truth Case
by L.A.P.D Vice Cop
Summary: Cole has miraculously survived the incident in the sewers, leaving him to lead his seemingly mundane life again. Meeting old enemies while making new friends. Roy, being one of those enemies, has severe guilt. We get to see the depths of his mind and see how he copes with guilt, love, and his past.
1. Chapter 1-3

Chapter 1: The Second and last chance

"There's water rushing in this way, hurry!" Cole panicked.

"Elsa, Biggs, hold onto me tight! We're getting him!" Jack explained.

Elsa and Biggs grabbed and lowered Jack into the sewer with great haste, the mix of fear, worry, and panic ran across everyone's face. It was as if the entire Earth stopped and held its breath, the silence was deafening. As Jack stretched his bloody, agonizingly painful arm to reach Cole, he felt that tug of success.

"I got him! Pull me up now!"

As the two comrades were being pulled up to safety, the sighs of relief and the tears of joy began to flood the area, not even the proud commanding officers of the L.A.P.D could hold back their tears as their disappointment and angst for Phelps melted away. Their hero, their star, their golden boy had been returned to them safe and sound. Elsa nearly pounced on Cole, with makeup running down her cheeks, she held him in a sort of vice-like grip never wanting to let her lover go ever again. Biggs let out a chuckle and a smirk as if to congratulate Cole for surviving the horrific incident, and as for Jack; he laid there in the damp grass panting and holding his arm in pure agony, but as he looked over at Cole being loved and cherished again the pain soon subsided. However as joyful as this reunion sounds, Cole would still have to carry on his life of receiving mundane case after mundane case. The whole department can't dwell in his survival forever. Cole knew that this celebration would be short-lived, and he knew that he'd have to prove himself to the department again, despite the bust of the Suburban Home Fund scandal. While knowing this fully, he recognizes his second chance, he once said that he lacked courage. He carried that burden after the event in Okinawa onward, but now he vowed to become a slave to his own weakness again.

_I fully believe in second chances, going through everything that I've gone through...almost bring me somber. I haven't got a family, no other confidants besides Stefan, and my new girl is a junkie. But... she believes in me, and Stefan is the greatest companion an officer or person can have, I don't want to prove anything to anybody. But I have to... in this career. As long as they are with me, I'll take this second chance in full stride. _

Chapter 2: Immense Guilt

Exactly two years has past since Cole was so heroically rescued, and everything he'd predicted happened. Everyone had moved on, and Cole was still doing mundane cases, the only dramatic occurrence that has happened is that Elsa has recovered from the intense morphine addiction (or is at least in better state of recovering). Stefan has been promoted to Vice with Roy Earle, the man who the department holds responsible for Coles tragic experience, in fact the only reason why Roy is still standing in his position is because of the many corrupt connections in the law and with gangsters.

Roy keeps L.A. "manageable"in a sense. As complex, vain, opportunistic, and sly as Roy may be; people often forget his side of the story and the underlying fact that he's still a human being with very human emotions. At first glance Roy is a racist, extremely sexist, and snide, but underneath that "shell-of-a-man" exterior lies a terribly hurtful past. His past is what conditioned him to be the man he is today, and his human-ness is what fuels his gut wrenching guilt that constantly torments him about what could've happened to Cole on that day. No one wants to know about that Roy.

For Roy to deal with his own demons, he must adopt something that seems better than himself, hence the fancy suit and expensive car. On the exterior Roy is a successful, handsome, and competent Vice detective. Be that as it may, the crevices of Roys mind are engulfed with neglect and sorrow. From a young age he was taught that feelings were a sign of weakness, and that the only way to succeed is to take what you want, no matter the consequence. As Roy lies in bed by himself, ridden with drunkenness, (as a method for coping with his demon) he tries to calmly drift away to sleep. All knowing that his sleep opens the gate to his tormented past, as if a higher-power is playing a sick game on him. He can still hear the screaming almost every night...

Chapter 3: That poor boy

"I-I can't live like this Dean! You scare the HELL outta me, and you love that damn bottle more than me!" Roys mother exclaimed.

"Don't you DARE speak that way! Remember your place, you're my wife, I own you. And why the hell should it matter if I have a drink?" Roys father answered.

"Dean you get... violent, and you always say that it'll stop but it never does!" Roys mother cries. "Woman I'll stop when I'm good and goddamn READY!" Roys father boasted.

"I-I'm leaving with Roy and-" she hesitantly explained.

"You won't be doing no such thing! Bitch I'll kill you before you try and leave with my boy!" he shouted at her.

"ROY! ROY COME HE-" Dean put both his large man hands around the delicate structure of Roys mothers neck, and started to squeeze tighter with each and every scream. Meanwhile, the nine year old Roy emerges from his bedroom and peeks his little head into the living room archway to see what exactly mommy needs him for.

"Die you bitch! You won't get a hold of MY son!" Dean said enraged.

Roy held back his tears, and urges to scream to let go of his mother, from the years of abuse he's already witnessed he learned that it's best to just stay quiet. Roys mother struggles to gasp for even an ounce of air, she then digs her nails into his forearms, he only squeezes tighter until...

*Snap*

His mother's neck just hangs in the molds of his hands. Roy then scurries back to his bedroom to just lie awake for another hour until the front door slammed, then he makes his way back to the kitchen hoping that his mother is still there. Instead he finds a bloody kitchen floor with a bloody knife on top of the counter. Roys father comes back from disposing of the mother, he then asks Roy:

"Will you be a good boy and help daddy clean this up?"

"...Uh-huh." Roy answers.

The only memento of his mother was the tacky furniture inside the house, how he loved to curl up on the couch with the printed flowers with her, how he loved the comics being read to him in the newspaper on top of that damn cedar coffee table, and he especially loved the the photo frame that sat on top of his nightstand with the picture of his family smiling as if there wasn't a care in the world. As Roy grew older he was convinced that it was his mother's fault for dying, and that women have a definite role in a relationship, after all if she'd kept her mouth shut she'd still be alive right? He recalls himself saying his opinion on "broads" to Cole on his Naked City case:

_I love women as much as the next guy, as long they do as their told and stay in their place._


	2. Chapter 4-6

Chapter 4: Living with my demons

Some time has passed and Cole slowly, but surely, progressing. He has about five more cases to solve until he's promoted to homicide (again). As Cole was rummaging through piles of paperwork, the door opened and an old friend wanted to pay a visit, the news of Coles progress spread like a wildfire.

"Starting to move up in the world eh Phelps?" Stefan asked with a grin.

"Yeah, things are starting to fall in place. I don't remember the last time I've felt more accomplished, or proud for that matter." Cole said.

"Ah Cole, you shouldn't be so modest all of the time. Everything you touch turns into gold, I mean just look at Elsa!" Stefan joked.

"Ha-ha very funny Stefan, and...thanks." Cole said.

As the two comrades continued to chat, a third party stepped into the room, a very unlikely third party.

"Phelps, I'm hearing tons of great things about you. Maybe I'll be privileged with having you as my lovely partner again." Roy said with his signature snide smile.

"...Yeah, that'd be great." Cole said apathetically.

"Aw Cole don't be so cold, we were marvelous together. In fact lets have a drink for old times sake huh?" Roy offered.

"I don't think I have the ti-"

"I insist Cole." Roy gave a taunting glare at him.

"Alright, what time?"

"Eight-o-clock." Roy then smirked and proceeded out of the office, when the door closed Stefan couldn't help but show concern for his friend, knowing that Roy was the "sole" person responsible for Coles downward spiraling life.

"Are you... being serious? You know how he feels about-"

"Stefan, everyone deserves a second chance, even smug sons of bitches like Roy."

"Something is very funny about this whole setup, he never insists anyone to get together with him."

"Maybe he's had a change of heart."

"Or maybe he just wants to get close and rat you out for something else. Guys like Roy are only opportunists, the can't possibly have any sympathy or feelings for anyone but themselves. He absolutely hates you Cole, and you're considering burying the hatchet with him?"

"If it'll make my job here easier, then sure. I'm not stupid Stefan, it's not like I trust him or even fully intend to trust him, but as a man I have the ability to forgive him."

"...Well then you're a better man than me. Just...be careful ok?"

"As always."

Stefan then left Cole back to his work, and to think as well.

_Remember, I believe fully in second chances, I have to go there with an open mind. I still have immense angst towards Roy, but maybe someone like him can have a sense of immense guilt. Who knows?_

Chapter 5: The Face Off

_For once in my damn life I actually feel pretty bad for something that I've caused. Damn, Cole ACTUAllY grew on me. Self pity son of a bitch. Hopefully I'll chug down enough Scotch so I don't have to remember this damn thing. Maybe I'll snatch up a dame, yeah that's it, then I'll call it a night. Well it's eight, better head in._

Cole was a little early, he had some thoughts racing through his mind as well. What does his most greatest enemy possibly have to say to him? If Cole had actually died in that sewer, would Roy still feel guilty, or would he be elated to know that no one will obstruct his corruption any further? Cole looked around the room, back at his watch, then at the room until he saw the door creak open.

"Ah, there's the man of the hour!" Roy said happily, "Hey give us a shot of Scotch will ya?"

"Scotch? I don't really drink that heavy liq-"

"Nonsense it's congratulatory drink, anything and everything goes tonight huh?"

"Sure, so what is it that you wanted to drag me here for?"

"What I can't have a drink with an old frien-"

"Cut the bullshit Roy."

"Fine Cole. I'm only doing this so that I can see you everyday without feeling sick to my stomach."

"Roy, what are you getting a-"

"What I mean Cole is...is that I feel like I-I've done you dirty."

"Really? What makes you say that?" Cole asked sarcastically.

"I'm being as sincere as I can asshole!"

"So what else is there to say Roy?"

"I-I never wanted you dead, Cole." Roy then asked for another shot of Scotch.

"Wha-"

"You get on my nerves Cole, but I never wanted you dead. I'm realizing that certain things that I've done...have caused your life to be ruined and-" Roy downed his shot.

"The sewer incident wasn't your fault, it's not like you made that water rise."

"Dammit Cole you always have to see the good in everybody! I ruined your life, and you have the gall to sit here and-"

"It's not your faul-"

"I'M SORRY! Damn you Cole, I dragged you here to say I'm sorry! This is the first time in my life where I've had to choke down my pride because I feel 'sorry' for what I've done. Do you know what it's like to be completely alone with yourself, knowing that you're a piece of shit but always saying that you're somehow 'better' than that? Huh?" Roy got increasingly angry with every sentence, each more stern after the other.

"Do you?!" Roy waved his hand for yet another drink as he tried to calm down, his eye contact with Cole ceased for a while.

"...I had no idea you felt that way." Cole muttered.

"I'm not asking for your sympathy, I don't need it. I'm just glad to be at peace with myself is all." Roy looked at Cole intensely for a split second, and then drank his third Scotch.

"...Well, Roy... I forgive you." Cole murmured.

"Gee, you're gonna make me cry Phelps, you should see the look on your face. Through everything that you've seen, through everything that I've put you through, you still look so... innocent." Roy admitted.

"Thanks Ro-"

"That wasn't a compliment, you should toughen up more. I see the way you are, you pour your feelings into every single case. 'That's someone's daughter' or, 'how would you feel if that was your wife being horribly slain like this'. You feel way too much, and that's a major weakness."

"I don't really understand where you're getting at."

"People will take advantage of you easily."

"And you know this from experience?"

"Of course, I'm not one to talk outta my ass Cole."

"That's for sure." Roy waved for his fourth and final Scotch, gulped it down, and bid Cole goodnight. Cole just remained to sit there alone with his thoughts.

_He seemed really defensive about the ''apology'', and what was that whole thing about "feelings" and how you're weak if you have them? Roy...is more than meets the eye. There's a whole lot more that makes me want to know more about him, he seems alone, and broken. Roy never ceases to utterly shock me. _

Chapter 6: Truly Yours, Denise Evans

It was another mundane morning in the life of Roy Earle, he'd woken up to a severe headache due to the four shots of Scotch, and the bottle and-a-half he drank when he arrived home. Roy was used to the feeling of rancor in the morning, his body was already conditioned to that feeling after so many years, but somehow he'd always manage to sober up right before work. When Roy arrived at the station, he walked upstairs to the commissioners room to see what kind of task he was supposed to complete today.

"Earle, you and Bekowsky need to get to 154 East Street on Sunset Blvd. to investigate a surplus of narcotics, find out where it originated from and find some possible leads. Oh and homicide will be there too, so be on your best behavior, got it?" The commissioner expressed.

"Yeah yeah, just another drug war between two hop heads."

"Well then I guess you should get right to it, expert."

Roy commenced looking for Stefan, he figured that he'd be with Cole by the interrogation room.

"C'mon Bekowsky we got a case to solve." Roy said nonchalantly.

"Oh, alright, I'll drive." Stefan then headed out of the station to prep the car.

"Mornin' Phelps..."

"Good morning Roy..."

"Don't mention anything that happened yesterday, or you'll be on my shit list forever, and I won't feel bad about it either." Roy gave Cole a pretty menacing glare.

"Relax, you have my word."

"Good." Roy then turned to head out the door, walked out the station, and joined Stefan.

"Got an address?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah 154 East Street on Sunset Blvd."

"Alright, so what's the issue here?"

"More than likely a dope war between two hop heads, what else?" Silence fell upon the two, and Stefan really wanted to feel less awkward around Roy.

"So how long have you been a Vice Cop Roy?"

"Too long Bekowsky... too long."

When the duo arrived at the crime scene they came to a lavished apartment building, the doorman was dressed in his best formal summer attire, and the bellboy was pleasantly polite. He directed them to apartment 244, while suggesting to take the elevator for their convenience. They stepped onto the elevator in silence, when they arrived on the second floor they stepped off, headed down the hall, and opened the last door down the hallway.

They were greeted by Mal and Rusty, then taken to the bedroom to find a pale, lifeless, young woman. Her hair was in a loose-curl fashion, the auburn color contrasted with her olive-green eyes. Her arms were bruised, her forehead dripped with scarlet blood onto the silk bed sheets, and her body was sprawled on the bed showing pure unadulterated vulnerability. As Roy stared at the young woman, he let out his signature smug smirk, because this was the woman who he had been vulnerable to so many years ago. This was the first (and maybe quite possibly last) woman that he respected, loved, and cherished. Until she ripped out his young, still beating heart.

"A-are you smiling? What the hell is wrong with you?!" Stefan boasted.

"Calm down Bekowsky, I just find it a little funny how supposedly huge drug cartels could trust a woman to keep an entire surplus in her apartment. Poor decision-making on their part, and this situation is pretty...tragic." Roy explained.

"Yea...tragic. So, Mal, can you give us a run-down?"

"Well there was an obvious struggle, she was held down, but managed to get back up. Unfortunately, she was struck in the head by this hammer."

"A hammer?" Stefan was a tad confused.

"It was probably used to either pry open a stash, or break it open to steal it. Don't be such a blockhead." Roy said. Stefan just brushed off the snide comment.

"Can we investigate around the apartment Mal?"

"Of course Stefan."

Roy and Stefan dispersed into the apartment looking for any sliver of evidence. Roy went into her "study", a medium sized room with two large bookcases and a desk with a journal and scattered papers. As Roy rummaged through all the scattered papers, he came across an envelope with an address outgoing to the Central Police Station, he noticed that the envelope wasn't sealed yet and he took a look.

_Dear Roy, _

_ I'm afraid it's been too long, with too much left unsaid. I know that I've wronged you so terribly, and for that I'm sorry. You had every right to be angry, and to still be angry, but I at least wanted to say my peace. You are an incredible man, all you wanted to do was to make me happy and proud of you, you wanted to make the world safer for me, everything you did to better yourself was in my name. I'll never forget the time you held me in your arms and promised me that you'll offer me the absolute best in life, how you'll always protect me, how you'll never be the man your father was. You told me that growing up you'd do anything to make a quick buck, but now that you have me, you'll earn a bigger buck doing Gods work. Trying to make L.A. a better place. You were an increasingly better person than me, and I withheld a secret from you, I used (and am still using) narcotics. They give me a happiness that you could never buy me, show me, or make me feel. No matter what you did, it wasn't good enough. I told that I was proud of you because I saw how broken and desperate you were, I used you for the commodities Roy, I was never in love with you. When you caught Lloyd and I, making love in our bed, I was embarrassed and ashamed. After you kicked me out, I was completely alone, Lloyd got me into the drug cartel business and it pays more than you could ever give me. I didn't feel happy with you, I felt like a mother and not a lover, and it was my fault for not bringing this to your attention. You couldn't have known, it's not your fault, and it's only now that I realize that I've lost the best thing that has ever happened to me. I hope that you are well, and that one day we can rekindle our romance, and hope that I can begin to love and cherish you. _

_-Truly Yours, Denise Evans_

Roy then sat in silence for about five minutes, put the letter back in its envelope, and said to himself:

"It's funny how fate works, you're dead and at peace with yourself. After ten years you've finally had the nerve to fess up, and here I am still breathing, still trying to figure it all out. Now you know how being broken feels, or felt. You stupid, junkie, whore. I got over your sorry ass about an hour after I kicked you out."

_Just like I've always said, "Heartbreak is for losers." _


	3. Chapter 7-8

Chapter 7: Promise? 

Stefan walked in on Roy's reminiscing session, Roy quickly put the letter back on the desk, and stood up.

"What was that? Evidence?" Stefan asked.

"I-it's irrelevant, don't worry." Roy answered.

"Is it alright if I search in here Roy?"

"Go ahead, I'm done in here. Try not to make a mess of anything Bekowsky alright?" Roy snickered.

"Alright..."

Roy walked out of the study to leave Stefan to try to piece together the events that led up to this poor young woman's death. Stefan first came across the bookcase and saw the overwhelmingly large array of books, ranging from Shakespeare to Fitzgerald, he then noticed a dusty chest on the very bottom shelf. He pulled it out, dusted it off, and lifted the top open. He glazed over the contents of the box, a photo album here another book there, then he came across a specific album. It was covered with a soft black material, like leather, entitled: Us.

_Us? Was she with somebody? She was probably getting over a break-up, poor girl, but if that's true then why was this box so dusty? Must be hard letting go._ Stefan gently flipped the cover over and read the dedication.

_To my one and only, here's to us..._

He turned to the first page of pictures to try and get an insight into this tragic young ladies life. The first picture that Stefan gazed upon looked as if it had been taken yesterday, it had been untouched from the day that it was put in the page. The picture was set in a park, Central Park, there was a couple who sat upon the fountain and the sun shined ever so brightly on the top of their heads. On the left sat Denise, her loosely curled auburn hair fell to her chest, her eyes twinkled by the flash of the camera, and a smile that showed perfect white teeth all tight and gathered together. On the right sat a dapper, young gentleman. His jet-black hair was slicked back and meticulously combed, eyes so light that they could blind the west coast, and right-sided smirk with his arms wrapped around her; holding her so very close. Stephan turned the page to look at the back of the photo, it dated June 7th, 1937. As he sat there staring at the picture, he began to have an epiphany.

_Is...that, Roy?! No, no way! Roy being all happy and romantic, that's impossible. This was taken ten years ago, and he's 37 now, so he was 27 when he was with her. Gosh he was young. Well I guess that does explain why he was a little defensive earlier, but then... what happened between them? Stefan put the album back into the chest, and pushed the chest back onto the bottom shelf, he walked over to the desk and found the letter that Denise had written. Stefan was utterly taken back at the obscenities that she'd say about the relationship, he couldn't help but feel sorry for Roy. He was... a good guy once. It only took one broad to ruin it for the rest. She had some nerve wanting to start over after what she did, she put him through hell. Funny thing is though, I'd have never known about this unless I'd been assigned to this case with him. Come to think about it, Roy never shows anything else but pure conceited-ness, and narcissism. Has he really bottled this up all this time? What goes on in his head, I wonder?_

"Bekowsky!" Roy yelled.

"Uh, yes?" Stefan answered.

"Get your pansy ass over here, you'll never believe what I found." Roy ordered.

"Coming, on my way." Stefan put the letter back where he found it, having more questions than answers.

"Look at what we have here." Roy said. He had removed a painting against the living room wall to reveal a secret storage space with broken cases containing heroin blocks.

"Great eye, anything else?" Stefan asked.

"There's an address, Andersen Shipping Co., 422 West Alameda."

"So the story so far is, Denise's appartment was used as a storage space for heroin, and in return she got big bucks. Shame, she was pretty young."

"She did it to herself." Roy snapped back.

"...Right. So I guess we have to pay this Andersen Shipping Co. a visit right?"

"Yea, I'll head out to the car, tell Mal and Rusty that we've wrapped things up here. Don't take forever either, got it?"

"Sure, sure."

Stefan walked back to the bedroom to tell Mal and Rusty that their job there was done, as he headed out of the apartment he couldn't help but wanting to say something to Roy. To Stephan, Roy always had a chip on his shoulder, and Denise may be (or have been) that chip. Stephan had never been one to pry something out of someone else, especially if it was something so emotionally overbearing, he couldn't imagine what Roy had been through with her.

_I wonder if he wanted to marry her, or maybe even, start a family. Come to think of it, I've never heard him mention having a sweetheart, or a date, or anything. He must be a pretty...lonely guy._

The elevator opened up to the lobby, Stefan wished the bell boy a nice day, and walked out the door of the apartment complex. He got in the passengers seat of Roy's car and off the went on their hour long trip to 422 West Alameda. The two just sat quietly, Stefan kept looking at his watch, in the mirrors, at the sky, and back at Roy. Stefan couldn't help but say something, anything, just to stop the deafening silence.

"I noticed that Denise, had a pretty...um... gripping lifestyle."

"How do you mean?"

"By day she lived as a superstar, by night she was an asset to a huge drug cartel ring."

"Uh-huh, say Stefan, why are you so adamant about her? She make you stiff or something?"

"Oh God no! N-not in her state of being, of course not..."

"Then why?"

"I-it's just that I've found some things while I was there and...and..." Stefan struggled to put his words into coherent sense.

"Get on with it Bekowsky."

"She was pretty charming, smart, and loveable."

"How'd you put that whole piece together?"

"I found a photo album..."

"And? So you found some dingy photos, big deal."

"I also found a letter...going out to the station. I read it...and... you must've really, really... loved her..."

When Stefan said that it was if something snapped in Roy's mind. He quickly jerked the car into an alleyway, and slammed on the break.

"L-look I didn't mean anything by that-!" Stefan panicked.

"Shut up Bekowsky! You listen to me! She was nothing but a filthy, junkie, whore, who played me like a damn fiddle! She didn't mean a...a... damn thing to me, got it!" Roy boasted.

He was breathing very heavily, his face was unusually red, and those blinding blue eyes were glossed with what appeared to be tears of somber, or even rememberance. Stefan just had a puzzled, but also scared, look on his face. He wants to console Roy, since he's clearly upset, but he doesn't want to pry him even more.

"By the way you look, she didn't seem like 'nothing'." Stefan said under his breath.

"Well what's it too ya anyway?! Why do you care Bekowsky?" Roy was beginning to get increasingly irritated.

"Someone has to." Stefan said

"I'm not a child you know."

"You are a loner though, those thugs that you hang with aren't your friends, they're your assets, right? You always seem like there's a huge chip on your shoulder. I don't care for you much really Roy, but that doesn't mean I want you to suffer." It fell silent for a few seconds.

"Hmph, fine Bekowsky, I'll tell you this sad sob story if you promise not to tell anyone. Got it?" Roy said as nonchalant as usual.

"Yea...I promise."

Chapter 8: Smitten 

"Believe it or not Bekowsky, your old boy here went to college, many years ago."

"Real shocker, what did you major in?"

"Accounting, you know me well enough to know that money has always been on my mind."

"Of course, of course."

"Well you may know that before you get to your core classes, you have to take a shit load of prerequisites and basics, so naturally I went to community college to take care of all that."

"Uh-huh."

"Through all the classes that absolutely hated, there was one class that got me going again, I never missed a single day of English." "You don't seem like the really deep, sensitive guy."

"Yeah, yeah Bekowsky, I know. Anyways, I never missed a day of English because of her, she captivated me with her words and the way that she'd speak. When she spoke the whole room went silent, everyone wanted to listen to whatever she was saying, and that was a real turn on. Sometimes I'd glance over at her writing in her notebook, she always looked so focused, and at the same time so tranquil." Roy paused for a bit.

"The girls in college wouldn't let go of me. I've always had a note here, and a number there, but those girls never did anything for me. Girls that throw themselves at you are just whores, I liked Denise because she gave me a challenge, and she's the only one that made me queasy. I had always admired her from afar, listening to her read an excerpt from a book in class, and every so often our eyes would meet and she'd blush. I guess she was just as nervous as I was, stupid isn't it?"

"I don't think so at all, that's actually pretty sweet." Stefan said.

"I knew you'd say that sappy shit Bekowsky. Eventually I did get to talk to her, at the library. We were working on character development for our short stories..."

"...May I sit here?" Denise asked in a shy, timid tone.

"Sure, go on ahead." Roy assured. Roy looked up from writing his story to see her angelic-like beauty beaming right in front of him, he looked at her face then down at the book that she'd been so focused on.

"Gatsby huh?" Roy said as he smirked, Denise's cheeks had a tint of rose on them.

"Yes, this is one of my favorites, have you read it?"

"Of course, it's an American classic. Who's your favorite character?"

"Nicholas Carroway, he's nothing but a spectator, but he's so fortunate to have been a witness to Jay's amazing life. It's fascinating really, who's yours?"

With a grin, full of sparky pearly whites, Roy answered:

"Jay Gatsby, he had it all. He was proud, but was still very adored, and brave."

"Brave?"

"With all of his fortune and fame, he was prepared to give it all up to be with Daisy, and that is very brave. Imagine, seeing everything you've worked so hard to keep, all goes away for one person."

They both just stared at each other for a few short seconds.

"Do you think you'd be able to do that?" Denise asked.

"Sure, with the right girl of course." Denise blushed even more profoundly.

"You're Roy Earle right?"

"That's me, and you're Denise Evans right?"

"Yes, you're the guy that I hear all the girls want to be around, but I never see you with them."

"I actually don't care for girls that just throw themselves at me, it isn't fun."

"It isn't fun?" Denise was a tad confused.

"I like a challenge, something worthwhile. I want a girl who I can be proud to say that I'm with, and a girl that I can make proud of me."

"You think that there's anyone like that here? I doubt it."

"Don't sell yourself short."

"Oh...my, do you mean..."

"How about we go out sometime huh? Truth is, I've always admired you, I was just too nervous to say something."

"Sure, and if you don't mind me saying, I've always thought you were handsome."

"Thank you, you're not bad yourself."

"And at that instant, you could say that I was...what's the word? Smitten."


	4. Chapter 9-10

Chapter 9: Connection 

"That's when we went on our first date. We went to the theater to see Shall We Dance, and jeez I really couldn't keep my eyes off of her, the look of her pure enjoyment just made me want to smile. Afterwards, I walked her home and said goodnight with a hug, and that was it."

Roy paused to recollect some of his most fondest memories.

"It wasn't until our fifth date when we finally kissed..."

"That doesn't sound like you at all, huh Mr. Gentleman?" Stefan joked.

"Well I was different back then Bekowsky, I'm a whole new man now, so I suggest you quiet down." Roy said in a serious tone.

"Sorry...sorry."

"In fact if I think really about it, I can remember that moment..."

Denise and Roy had gone out dancing that night, she looked absolutely ravishing, and he complimented that by wearing a $215 tailored suit. The music was classy, the drinks were on point, and the lights were romantically dimmed. It was as if the club had been set up for just the two of them. They'd spent about two hours on that dance floor, swaying, holding each close, and foreheads touching. During Nat King Cole's A Blossom Fell, they slowed danced one more time:

"You know... I've never done this for any girl." Roy whispered in Denise's ear.

"Well what's so special about me huh?" She whispered back.

"I...love you..." Roy said in a low, sincere, tone.

She took her head off his shoulder, and looked into those beautiful blue eyes, and smiled. He smirked, and that was the sole signal. He slowly closed his eyes, as did she, then they leaned in for their first kiss. The contact between those lips tingled at first, then became firm, it seemed like things were finally concrete and complete for Roy. After the song had ended, he drove her home, his one arm around her the whole time. They soon arrived at her house, but for a bit they just looked up at the stars discussing many random topics, then another hour had gone by. They both knew it was late, so he walked her to the front door and kissed him goodnight.

"Thank you for the wonderful time, Roy."

"For you, I'd do this everyday. Goodnight."

He started to walk back to the car, when suddenly:

"Wait!" Denise said with her voice raised, not too loudly though, her neighbors were sleeping. She ran into his arms and kissed him just a little longer this time.

"I love you too. You're the best thing since...well...Gatsby."

They both laughed, and she went back into the house to watch him take off, her heart still fluttering.

"That was the first time I felt really happy in a long time, but it has no significance now. Long story short, after we'd dated for about 8 months we moved into an apartment together, still close to college of course. One night, we were walking back home, and some idiot tried to rob us. I beat his ass to a bloody pulp, I can't tell you what I did to him exactly , I may have just blacked out. From that night I decided to get into the force... all for her, so that no one else could fear to walk the streets of L.A. at night anymore, to clean the city of Angels and live up to the name. Makes me chuckle a little, I was like Phelps when I young huh? Hah. Well anyways, when I was in the academy, she used to call me right around break time and would always bring me my lunch in front of all the guys. Man they'd get jealous. It was that same routine of: getting up, getting ready, eating breakfast, kissing her bye, training, break, lunch, training, going home, making love, and finally sleep. Man I'll tell ya, the first time we... you know, it was so passionate; like something out of a god damn movie."

"A movie? Really?" Stefan asked, sarcastically.

"Yes, really Bekowsky. As I was saying, I started to make more money as I progressed doing low-level police worked and with that money, I bought a nicer upscale apartment for us. Along with it came more shit for her: jewelry, dresses, coats, shoes, accessories, furniture, and whatever else she felt she wanted. Like a fool, I did it for her, because I didn't want to lose the best thing that happened to me. Or at least that was what I thought. I noticed that she was out a lot more, she brought me lunch less often, and that she slept more than usual. It's like I was slowly losing a connection with her."

Chapter 10: The Battle of Barbiturates 

February 4, 1938. 10:50 pm. Roy had just started to unwind, and all he wanted was his now fiance', to comfort him.

"Sweetie, are you...feeling well?" Roy asked.

"Hmph? Oh...I'm fine." She mumbled.

"You've been sleeping, a great deal lately, and what exactly are these?" He showed her a metal pill tin with small, ivory colored pills.

"I've been suffering from insomnia honey, it's prescribed by my doctor. I'm fine sweetheart, really."

"Are you sure? Because I only want to make sure that you don-" She turned his face towards hers, and they looked into each others eyes. His still shined like always, hers looked more dull. Her body was awake, but Denise had been gone.

"You...have nothing to worry about." She pulled him in for a kiss, and he moved atop her.

"You know I love you...right?"

"Of course." They made love, but it wasn't the same as all of those times before, the passion had escaped them.

Alas, Roy knew not what to do, he could only hope that tomorrow would be a better day.

The next morning Roy did his routine all by himself, but he remembered to kiss Denise on her precious forehead just before he went to work, all of it to keep her safe. Soon, hours passed at work, then it was break time. He wanted to buy himself lunch, but had forgotten his wallet at home, he would have called Denise but he didn't want to disturb her slumber. He then walked to a nearby trolley, and dozed off the whole way home.

Roy arrived home, and he saw a pretty expensive 1937 Buick 8 parked next to the apartment building.

_It must be just a coincidence, maybe a guest of someone. It's of no concern. He took the elevator to their floor, and casually walked to their apartment. Maybe Denise is awake, I'd like to see her before I head back._

Roy then unlocked the door carefully, being sure not to disturb anyone-but wait- he hears a...squeaking sound? He carefully makes light footsteps, trailing to the bedroom where the squeaking gets increasingly louder with each quiet, light footstep. Then the squeaking, turns into...grunts?

Moaning?

Both?

He hurried at the thought of his fiance' being in some kind of trouble, and swung open the door, to find that...he'd

lost her.

"What in the HELL IS GOING ON?!" Roy yelled in anger.

"The f**k is this?" The strange dapper man asked.

"Your WORST nightmare!" Roy rushed in and pulled him off of her, only to give him a hard right hook to the face. The strange man tried to scurry away, but Roy was enraged and relentless. Spit, teeth, blood, and spit decorated the marble flooring.

"Ahhh! Son of a-" The man didn't have time to speak in a complete sentence, as Roy kept on punching him and smashing his head against the floor.

"Roy please! Stop! Damn you Roy stop!" Denise cried and pleaded, she tried to force Roy off by choking him with a belt. He dropped the mans head and turned to her, whatever innocence he had left, melted away at an instant.

"You would try and KILL ME, for this bastard!" Roy's eyes became glassy.

"I-I needed the money-" She stuttered.

"So you could do what? Get high and screw these ugly mug pieces of shit? HUH DID YOU?!" He roared.

"Dammit Roy! I feel trapped, I'm not supposed to be your mothe-" That was the first time he'd ever hit a woman.

"F**K YOU! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME! DOESN'T THAT MEAN ANYTHING?"

"I NEVER LOVED YOU! WHO'D HONESTLY BE IN LOVE WITH A SAP LIKE YOU!" Roy grabbed her wrist, and ripped off her engagement ring.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Roy demanded.

"NOT WITHOUT MY-" He put his hand around her delicate throat.

"Get out while I'm still decent, and take that grease ball with you! I NEVER want to see your sorry ass again, you junkie. If you don't leave, I'll kill you right here." He let go of her and she gasped the single breath of life, after the fear of God was put into her.

"M-marco, c'mon. Let's go..." Denise helped him up and the both scurried to the door, the stream of tears couldn't be controlled, her fate had been sealed.

"When she left, I found an envelope of cash and a stash of barbiturates. I never saw her again until today, and from that day on, all broads to me are just some place to stick your prick into if you ever get an urge. That's all." Roy had looked away from Stefan to wipe a single tear that had not yet fallen down his cheek.

"I'm...so sorry Roy." Stefan said sincerely.

"It isn't your fault, I was the stupid one."

"But-"

"Look I'm done talking about this, we still have to go the shipping company."

"...Ok."

_ This whole thing is just so...tragic. I feel so bad, but I can't tell him that because he'll only poke fun at me. The one thing I caught though, was that he was willing to be with her in death than to have her be alive and with someone else. Maybe there's more, but I guess I'll never find out. I don't want to pry anything more than what's already broken. _

They sat in silence, the rest of the ride.


End file.
